Just Another Runaway
by Softball20
Summary: Max and Fang have a pair of twins, Nick and Nicole. But when Nick is murdered, Nicole goes on her own journey to find his killer, and will find out more and more about the life her parents left behind and finding the killer might not be her only priority.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So I haven't written in a long time. But hopefully this will turn out well?**

Nicole's POV

I could hear mom crying through the wall as I lay on my back, wide awake. Dad's muffled comforts were soft and I shook my head. Otherwise the house was silent, and that was the worst part. My brother's breathing was absent a crossed the hallway. He was sleeping peacefully, in the earth, after being murdered. I got up and sat on the window sill, my legs dangling in the cold outside air. We were in a remote, mountainous corner of Colorado. My aunts and uncles lived with us, but it wasn't crowded. A donation was given to us for a new home, at least that's what Uncle Iggy said. Mom had been pregnant with me and Nick when the house was finished. Me and Nick. Now just me. He'd been shot in the chest multiple times while on a short solo fight, not even in anger. I remembered his smile, a wink, he told he'd be back in five minutes max, just wanted to stretch. When he was gone for thirty, I went looking, and I saw his bloody body on a rocky cliff side. According to Jeb's analysis on the bullets, they were from a lab facility based on the residue. Someone had purposefully shot him. But the residue could've been from thousands of labs in the world, over half with no malicious intent whatsoever.

"Nicole, I hope you weren't planning on going anywhere," Dad said behind me. Really he could've passed for my sibling over Nick. I looked exactly like him, wings and all. Nick had been a replica of mom, and they'd been close. I was daddy's little girl, but I was Nick's baby sister. My best friend was dead. The one person who knew me completely, thoroughly, without doubt, was dead. We finished each other's sentences, we were in sync with the other's emotions, everything that could ever bond a brother and sister, bonded us. My other half was missing, and I felt that gaping void like a festering wound.

"No, just needed to breathe," Dad sat on my bed as I swung my legs back in and slid into a bean bag, keeping the window open. We stared at one another, dad sighed, and I did too. I wrapped my big wings around me. It was the only thing that set Nick and I apart from everyone else. The angel wings that you saw in picture books were ours. They took up a little bit more space on our backs, but were still easily hidden under a t-shirt.

"Your mom and I are going to leave in a week to find Nick's killer," I nodded. My wings constricted more, because I wanted to go.

"Wasn't that the point of killing Nick, to draw you and mom out?" He shrugged and didn't answer. It was true. I hadn't spoken much since he died. Only crying silently at night because I didn't want their attention, mom needed it more.

"You're staying here Nicole," I dropped my eyes to the hands that twisted around one another. Nick would've wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder and smiled warmly to calm me down.

"I know," I whispered. Dad got up, and to my surprise, he leaned down, and kissed the top of my head. He walked out without looking at me. I rose and pulled out my backpack. In it were three days worth of clean clothes, two jackets, a pair of shoes, and a boatload of granola bars. Mom had them ready since the day Nick and I were born. I'd add medical supplies to them, maybe a few microwave meals, and my chargers over the next few days. I'd leave after mom and dad. That way they'd keep going, not even suspecting that their daughter was heading away from them on the same mission. I crept a crossed the hall and into Nick's room. I hesitated, but opened his underwear drawer, lifted the fake bottom out, and found his journal. I curled up under the covers that still smelt like him, earthy and airy, all in one. Switching on a flashlight, I began to read his last entry.

"Nicole and I went into town today. While we were in the coffee shop, I saw a man with a bad knife cut on his cheek. He got up behind us. Nicole was too busy reading the menu to notice. After we ordered, I waited to hear him order, he had an English accent. But when he caught me staring, he glared like I'd killed his mother or something. Nicole and I left soon after, but what the heck is a man like that doing in a small town like this?" English accent, England, I'd go there first. I tucked the journal under the pillow, determined to take it with me when I left, and closed my eyes to finally sleep.

"Nicole? Nicole?" I woke to Aunt Nudge's panicked shriek.

"What?" I yelled, she threw open my brother's door, and almost passed out with an obviously relieved sigh.

"Your window was open and your room was empty, what was I supposed to think?" She asked, I grumbled and threw the covers back over my head, pressing my nose back into my brother's pillow case, feeling falsely safe.

"It's time to get up," She said and I felt a strange tear prick my eye. This was the closest I'd ever be to my brother before leaving, and she was telling me to get up. I went back in my room, put on a pair of jeans, a black t-shirt, and approached the stairs.

"What do you mean we're staying here?" I heard Uncle Iggy explode. Mom and dad were telling them about leaving.

"We need you to look after Nicole!" My mom's voice rose to a dangerous octave and everyone fell silent when I came down.

"Thanks Uncle Iggy," I said when I picked up a plate of eggs, bacon, toast, and a waffle. He smiled and nodded toward the sound of my voice.

"Nicole, did you get enough sleep last night?" Mom said as I sat down in the living room with everyone.

"Yeah mom, don't worry about it," She still looked skeptical, but other than that left the subject alone. Everyone stared at me as I ate, and I chewed slowly.

"She knows," Dad said, and finally I was released from scrutiny.

"Thanks," I murmured under breath, and he nodded.

"I'm going to go fly," I announced when I was done.

"I'll go with you," Mom, Uncle Iggy, Aunt Nudge, and Uncle Gazzy all bolted to a standing position.

"Nevermind!" I snapped, marched upstairs, and slammed my door.


	2. It Hits like Lightning

**A/N: Thanks for the so many people adding my story and for the review! Really appreciate it!**

Nicole's POV

Mom and dad are flying away after a quiet goodbye. Mom had briefly clung to me in a hug, said I love you, and went on to Aunt Nudge. Dad hugged me a little longer, kissed my forehead without saying anything, but even then, he said more than words could describe.

"I'll make breakfast kiddo, how does that sound?" Uncle Iggy had not called me kiddo since I was ten. I was pretty sure the man had grown some serious balls if he was going to start that back up with my age of seventeen.

"Sure Unkie Iggy!" Is it possible for a blind man to give you a dirty look? I believe he just did. We all walked into the house. Aunt Nudge went to her drawing room and Uncle Gazzy into the garage. I curled up in the window seat that overlooked the meadow in the valley. Nick and I used to nap here when we were tiny. He could lay flat on his back with his legs stretched out and a pillow under his head. I crossed my arms over his chest and abdomen, and rested my head on them, curled up in the sun's warmth and my brother's calm breathing. Now it was just me, in this lonely little ray of sunshine that was brave enough to push through the clouds.

"Nicole, waffles or pancakes?" Uncle Iggy called.

"Waffles," I responded immediately. I had this thing about syrup touching any other food on my plate; the little squares prevented it from leaking everywhere, unlike pancakes. Nick had always found it very peculiar, but never teased me.

"Nicole, what do you think?" Aunt Nude twirled in a summer dress. Her wings spreading out a little as she did so.

"It's very pretty Auntie," I said softly, feeling worse when the ray of sunshine was finally forced out, and only gray clouds covered the sky. That was how I felt. I would remember what feeling whole was like for a few moments, but then my depression would take root.

"You really think? Maybe we could go pick flowers in the meadow tomorrow. It would be good to get you out of the house," Walking of course, heaven forbid we fly down there in the case that someone shoot us gliding three feet off the ground. I nodded with a half smile and turned away, feeling drained. She watched for a couple of moments, but then disappeared back in her drawing room. I'd never been this way before, and no one knew how to handle it. Though I'd always been the quieter twin, I was still outgoing around family, just less so than Nick. Now I had to do this all by myself somehow, with no support system.

"Nick and . . . I mean Nicole, come get it," Uncle Iggy's voice faded toward the end and I closed my eyes. This life was impossible. I needed out, and though soon I would have it, it couldn't come soon enough to find my brother's killer.

Dear Everyone,

I'll be back when I can. Things have come up and I need to do this on my own. Please understand. I'm not being stupid or young. I know that it's up to me to find that murderer. I love you all.

Wings and Halos,

Nicole

P.S. Tell mom and dad not to worry and that I love them too.

My bag was a little bit heavier than I anticipated, but I'd live. It contained the entire original Up and Away supplies, but also had my iPhone charger, an extra jacket, over five hundred dollars in cash (Mom and Dad had kept a safety fund at the top of their closet just in case Nick or I ever needed it), and Nick's favorite blanket and pillow. Who knew where I'd land?

"Bye," I whispered as I eased my window open, balanced on the edge, and took off. I pounded upward into the cloud cover, just in case someone should be awake. But they trusted me to stay inside, to not take off, and they should've known better. I hummed to the music playing in my ears, Runaway by Love and Theft. That's what I was now after all. Not like mom and dad could report me as one. Description: six foot girl, black hair, black eyes, and black wings sticking out of her back? Bet no one would notice that last part.

I hit New York City after eight hours of continuous flying. It hadn't been easy, even my wings seemed to ache, but I made it and landed on a three story building. I jumped down into an ally way. Apparently this was all a mugger needed when he turned the corner and smiled evilly. Mom and dad had drilled fighting skills into me since I was four, but the gun he was pointing kind of changed the playing field. My hand twitched.

"Give me the backpack," He spoke slowly and greedily as he crept forward. My hand twitched again, this time a more severe, noticeable movement.

"Now let's not do anything stupid here," He cocked the gun, my hand swung up and lightning came out of it. I stumbled back a couple of feet, but the man didn't move from where I'd shocked him. The gun was lying a few feet away so I crept forward. His head shook a little, so he was still alive. I stared down at my hand, trying to figure out where the hell that came from. I knew everyone in the Flock had powers per say, but Nick and I had never suspected that we'd have them. Though being in the genes was a legit answer, I was still freaked out that it happened and I had no control.

So I left that man there, tucked my wings back into my jacket, and walked on to the street. There was a little run down hotel for thirty bucks a night, so I went there, asking for their smallest room, after all, who looks for a girl with wings in a place like this. The man looked exhausted who handed me the key and I walked into room one. It smelt a little like cigarettes, but other than that was fine. I wasn't exactly looking forward to curling up in the sheets where God knows what happened. So I chose to sleep on top of the comforter with Nick's blanket covering me. I didn't want the pillow to smell like cigarettes, it held the strongest amount of his scent.

"What the hell was that?" I muttered when I examined my hand as my eyes finally closed.


	3. Can I Offer You a Spot of Tea?

**A/N: Sorry for such a long stretch between updates, kind of hit a writer's block. So here we go.**

Nicole's POV

Flying over the ocean was boring, it was nothing but blue. Once in a while I'd see a ship before rising into the clouds to hide from their sight, other than that, it sucked. The Flock had flown over oceans, but they had each other to keep one another company, entertained. I had no one.

Night had fallen when I flew over London. It was pretty as far as I could tell from my vantage point. I heard wing flaps behind me, and spun to face it. Nothing. I felt the electricity thread through my fingers, and weird a reassurance at my power. I listened for a few more moments. Maybe it was just my imagination. I flew to Big Ben and landed, tripping a little, my legs politely letting me know how exhausted they were. Wings flapping again, I peeked over my shoulder, just doves.

"I'm going crazy," I whispered to myself. There was no way there'd be another flying person around here. That was just impossible. Then the shadow crept over the corner and I spun, electricity licking from my finger tips as I held my hand to shock whoever it was.

"Who the bloody hell are you?" A deep male English voice snapped as he came around the corner and my hand dropped to my side. This guy had to be six foot six, towering over what seemed to be my puny six foot at the moment. His hair was a curly black disarray. His eyes were a brilliantly sharp stormy blue. But the big thing that attracted my attention were the black wings, shaped like mine, on his back. His eyes widened considerably too when he spotted my wings, the only remarkable difference was at the very tiniest tip of each of his feathers, was red, the color of blood. 

"I could ask you the exact same thing," I replied, tipping my chin up indignantly.

"So you're American," He smirked. My fist closed as I glared him down. Typical British people having the same stereotypes as we have about them.

"Sorry, can I offer you a spot of tea?" I said with biting sarcasm. The smirk dropped off his face as he raised an eyebrow.

"My name is Mark Daring, and you are?"

"Nicole Ride, daughter of Fang and Max Ride," Sister of the late Nick Ride I added in my head softly, as if I was still too sensitive to take that blow. My eyes had dropped down to the concrete below our feet as I could almost feel my brother's warm presence at my side, giving me strength. Mark studied me for a moment, looking like he could tell I just wasn't right.

"What are you doing in London of all places then?"

"Trying to . . . Why do you care?" I didn't know if I could trust this guy.

"Well first of all, I was . . . created here. America wasn't the only country trying to make human birds. The lab I was created in was shut down, but that was many years after I escaped on my own. It took them many years to make something like your parents. I think I was the only one," He shrugged.

"My twin was killed. I don't know why and I don't know by whom. His last entry talked about a man with an English accent in the small town a few miles away from our home. He'd given my brother a dirty look. Maybe it's stupid, but it's all I have," Mark gave me a small half smile as if I wasn't a crazy avian creature meant to be judged on the spot for the wings sticking out of my back.

"I'm assuming you're the only one of your family here," He approached a little closer, not in one of those creepy stalking ways, just a nice way.

"Yeah, my parents should still be in America. They left before I did. Hopefully my aunt and uncles haven't caught up with them yet. The longer they're not searching for me is the more time I have," I crossed my arms and fought down a rising shiver. Though I'd been born and raised in Colorado, I had no meat on my bones whatsoever. I was a small size zero in jeans alone. The jacket I wore didn't really stop the constant wind.

"I've actually considered the fact if there are, for lack of a better term, assassins trying to hunt our kind down. Some people's mentality is that we are monsters in this world,"

"That would make the most sense as to why his body was still there," My brother's poor bloody chest. Whoever shot him flat out wanted him dead.

"Do you have a place to stay?" He asked all of a sudden. I raised an eyebrow. His smile became nervous as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I mean, it sounds like you could use some help on this, and I have resources to do just that."

"That would be great," I smiled for the first time in . . . forever. I wasn't alone on my little mission. Someone was willing to help me. Someone I barely knew. But it wasn't like he could possibly be that much danger to me. I did have electricity charging through my veins. A little zap and I'd be gone if I felt threatened.

"I do have a little question though,"

"Yes?"

"How old are you Mark?" He chuckled a little and smiled at me.

"I'm eighteen," So I was younger. Not that it made that big of a difference or that it would've changed my mind. I just wanted to know.

"And you?" He asked as he turned to stand on the ledge.

"I'm seventeen," I felt a little embarrassed. He grinned at me and pointed to a fancy looking glass building with balconies in the distance.

"My apartment it over there, just follow me," He leaned and pushed out his wings. I smiled a little and followed. It was obvious he didn't prefer to glide; instead he used powerful strokes to propel himself to his destination. It was strange watching someone else's flight habits outside my family. Nick and I used to glide lazily on the cold air being pushed over the mountains.

"So do you normally fly at night?" I asked from above him.

"Yes, I thought I heard another set of wings slightly above me, but there was too much cloud cover. Then I just spotted a figure standing on Big Ben, and I kind of wondered if you were a crazy person making a rash decision, so I landed," I laughed softly, and remembered how good it felt. We landed on a balcony with an open sliding glass door. The apartment was ridiculously nice. The living room had a sloping ceiling to give it a more openly feel. The room was decorated in blues, grays, and black. The kitchen area was the perfect size for two people to easily maneuver with black marble counter tops and shiny new appliances. There was a hallway leading off, but I didn't move, feeling more like a guest.

"It has two bedrooms and a connecting bathroom for each. This is Catherine," A grey and black tortoise shell rubbed up against my legs, giving a deep purr. I smiled and crouched down to stroke her fur. Her sharp blue eyes looked at me and then she went on to Mark.

"You didn't strike me as a cat person,"

"When I was living on the streets at ten years old, I found her as a kitten. She got to the point that she followed me around and even helped me to find food," I blinked and turned to him as he stared at the floor, obviously not all that comfortable with sharing that part of his past.

"You seem pretty successful now," I gestured to the apartment.

"I work for a large security company. I hack into virus creator's computers and such to stop them from causing problems for our equipment. It's good work," I wondered how a ten year old kid could be able to go from living on the streets to having that kind of a job, when did he even come in contact with computers? But I knew my parents had been through similar times. He led me down the hall to one of the two doors.

"This is the guest bedroom," He gestured to the door.

"Thank you," I smiled up at him. He stepped sideways to be placed in front on his door. I was about to go in the room when I felt his fingers wrap around my hand and I turned, trying not to look freakishly shocked.

"I'm sorry about your brother Nicole," He let go and disappeared in his room. I went into mine. It was white and brown. I set down my bag, dug through for my pajamas, and got under the covers, Nick's pillow under my head, and wrapped up in his blanket.

**A/N: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! **


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